


Keeping Warm

by TerminallyCapricious



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 18:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18643495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerminallyCapricious/pseuds/TerminallyCapricious
Summary: Harvey has been worried about how his girlfriend is faring through the rough winter weather. The last time he saw her cottage, it was a bare-bones shack, not built for this kind of weather at all. Being the doting boyfriend that he is, he insists on bringing over supplies to keep her warm.





	Keeping Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! 
> 
> This was suggested by someone on my other Harvey/Farmer fic who posted under the name Alice! I hope I did the idea justice and I hope y'all like it!
> 
> (Also this is the second stardew fic I'm posting in one day, where did all this productivity come from??)

It’s only a week into winter and Harvey is already driving you up the wall with his concern.

 

So used to his small, easily warmed apartment, he’s worried about you in your lonely cabin. You often rebuff his comments by saying that you could always join the cows in the barn, they have a top end heater after all. But he still worries, covertly checks you for flu symptoms every time you stop by, though not subtle enough as you always manage to catch him looking.

 

It comes to a head on a Friday afternoon when you stumble into the clinic with a good dusting of snow on your shoulders. He stares at you with concerned disapproval as you pull your scarf off and shake the light powder from your hair. You walk up to the counter and lean as far over as you can reach, waiting for him to fill the gap and give you a greeting kiss. He relents and chastely pushes his lips to yours, and you enjoy the warmth against your windblown face.

 

“Can I,” he begins, seeming uncertain. “Can I come over tonight?”

 

The question surprises you, you can’t remember the last time he made the trek out to your farm, you’re not sure he even has since it was the little dilapidated shack that you’d moved into. The two of you sleeping together is a very new thing, and you’ve only ever done it at his place. You’re a little concerned about making him trek through the morning snow to open the clinic in time, but you remember that Saturday is his day off.

 

“Sounds good.” You reply easily. “We can sit by the fire, have some wine, a nice cosy evening in.”

 

You’re sure he recognises the sly smile on your face when he blushes in response.

 

“I’ll bring over all my nicest blankets, it’s important to keep warm in this weather.”

 

You grin at him with all your teeth and hop up onto the counter to give him one last kiss on the cheek before you throw your scarf back on and walk out the door. You’ve got some prep work to do.

 

-

 

The knock on your door comes at 7pm on the dot and you stifle a chuckle at your boyfriend’s punctuality. You answer the door in your robe, letting the warm air from the house envelop him where he stands on your porch. True to form, you see his arms piled high with a bundle of blankets. At this, you don’t bother to hold in your laugh, and you step aside and gesture for him to come in.

 

You shut the door behind him and watch him frown as he takes in the room around him. You see him examining your kitchen and peering questioningly up towards your spare room- your _nursery,_ Robin had called it with a wink. He gently plops the pile of blankets on the floor and gives the house another once over and turns to you in confusion.

 

“This place is a lot bigger than I remember?” He says, as though it’s a question.

 

“Yeah, Robin is a miracle worker.” You slink closer to him, a little miffed that he’s so concerned with your house upgrades and totally ignoring the miles of leg that’re exposed in your short dressing gown.

 

“I feel silly for being worried now.” He looks sheepish. “This whole time I’ve pictured you sleeping in that drafty old cabin.”

 

You tilt your head back and laugh lightly, you suppose that would be cause for concern after all.

 

Now that he’s seemed to have absorbed this information, you can see him taking in all the smaller details of your home. You see him staring at the roaring fire, the plush bearskin rug stretched out in front of it, the rose petals strewn around the area with care, and the two glasses of wine. He turns to you with a sort of amazed confusion.

 

“I feel bad that all I brought were blankets.”

 

“Oh,” You say dismissively and loops your fingers in his belt loops, pulling him close. “I think you’ve got more for me than that.”

 

There’s an obvious blush on his face and you watch as his eyes spring wide open as he finally recognises your attire.

 

 _Finally!_ You think to yourself, jutting your hips out and posing so the slit in the robe runs further up your leg. His fingers twitch and you see his hand trying to reach for you as though it had a mind of its own.

 

You grab his hand in both of yours and walk him back towards the fireplace, pushing off his jacket before you push firmly on his shoulders, urging him to sit. You kneel beside him on the bearskin rug and hold his eye contact as you begin to play with the tie on your robe. You pull the knot apart slowly and allow him to stare blatantly as you shuck the thick fabric off your shoulders, revealing the ensemble underneath.

 

You watch carefully as he observes every inch of your figure, showcased under a skimpy, sheer pink teddy, the breasts and skirt hem lined with a feathery, pale pink fluff. Through the fabric he can see a simple, modest pair of matching panties.

 

Kneeling as he sits before you, you’re about a head taller than him, and you climb into his lap and grin down at him as he struggles to keep his mouth closed. You’ve been dating for more than a season at this point, and you’re seriously considering proposing come springtime, but the way he gapes at you never gets old.

 

You pluck at his tie until it’s hanging open around his neck, and you use it to leverage him into a slow, deep kiss. His eyes shut and you can feel his hands come up to rest high up on your thighs, his rough fingers rubbing at the fluff on your skirt. You can’t help but smile against his lips; it’s taken much too long to get him comfortable with touching you without stopping to ask permission. That said, you absolutely enjoy the idea of him begging to touch you, and you plan to integrate that into your love life at some point.

 

For now, however, you pull the tie from around his neck and move your attention to unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes are closed and a lot of your attention is on the small gasps he’s making as you bite at his lips, but you know that you’re revealing inches of lovely chest hair as you work his shirt open. Once your work is done and it’s hanging open at his sides, you take the chance to run your fingers through his thick fur, scratching lightly at his skin and following the trail of hair all the way down to where it disappears under his belt. You yank at his belt buckle with more force than was necessary, knowing that it always turns him on when you’re forceful.

 

He pulls back from you for a moment, working his own pants off until he’s sitting in front of you in a plain pair of black boxer briefs. You take a moment to appreciate the bulge tenting the fabric.

 

You’re immediately surprised as he takes this opportunity to pounce on you. He pushes you back, gently lowering you back onto the soft rug and holding eye contact intensely. You can’t help but smile up at him fondly as you feel his big hands rubbing soothingly into your skin, and you’re pretty happy to let him take the lead this time.

 

The first thing he does is kiss softly at your neck, it’s a far cry from the way you normally attack his neck with bites and rough hickeys, and it’s totally in character for your soft boyfriend.

 

His hands trail down your body from your shoulders, reverently brushing down your sides as he laps at your collarbones. You wind your hands into his thick hair and give a gentle tug at the attention, making him gasp and grab tightly at your hips. You can feel the moment that he manages to shake himself from his reverie and resume in working his way down. His fingers skim down the front of your panties and you spread your legs, letting him slot himself between them, now closely entangled with you all over.

 

His thumb rubs over your opening through your panties and you feel his lips pause against your neck, his breaths coming out as quick puffs. You note with amusement that he seems to be a good deal more worked up than you, and he’s not the one being touched.

 

You can barely sense the hesitation as he tugs lightly at the waistband of your panties, and you encourage him, lifting your hips and allowing him to slide them off you. Now his mouth is working its way down your body, stopping at the dip in your sternum, your belly button to lavish with kisses.

 

You feel him huff out an awed breath against your skin when he comes up close with your core. You prop yourself up on your elbows and gaze down at him, eager to enjoy the show he’s about to put on for you.

 

He licks his lips nervously as he briefly meets your gaze, he’s done this before, a good few times in fact, but never has he been in charge of the situation like this. You give him a quick “go ahead” hand wave and smile at him, aiming for reassuring, but you can’t quite keep out the teasing vibe you’re used to adopting during sex.

 

He leans in and licks firmly up each sides of your labia. His tongue is broad and you can feel it massaging at you, sparking a flame in your nerves, the pressure running up into your gut. He allows his tongue to focus on your clit for a moment while his fingers stroke at your wetness, mimicking a come-hither motion and tracing teasingly. You lift an approving eyebrow and grab at his hair, weirdly proud that he’s managed to turn the tables on you like this.

 

When he slips a finger into you, you let your elbows give way and fall flat on your back onto the rug, though you keep a hand tangled up in his hair, holding him firmly in place. He doesn’t take long before he adds another finger, the come-hither motion returning as he rubs up against the soft spot inside you. You’re squirming underneath him now, hips twitching under his ministrations, your flimsy lingerie skirt hiked up to your hips and rubbing softly against your back where you writhe against the rug.

 

He pauses in his work and you prop yourself back up to shoot him a disapproving look. All he gives you in response is a light chuckle, and he’s lucky you’re not in charge tonight or else he’d have to be punished for that.

 

You watch with a smile as he clumsily kicks his boxer briefs off. He climbs up your body and you lie back, watching him slink up you like a nervous, bashful leopard stalking his prey.

 

He lies himself down over you and kisses you deeply, every inch of your bodies pressed tightly together. You can feel him, hard, resting against your heat, and you can tell that he’s putting monumental effort into not rutting against you desperately. You do him a favour and sling your legs around his hips, pulling him closer to you and rewarding you both with _delicious_ friction as you shift your hips.

 

He huffs out a desperate gasp against your lips and you peer up at him, loving the way his cheeks flush with his arousal.

 

“Can I…?” He hesitates, unable to resist as he grinds against you.

 

“Can you what?” You tease, tone coy. You’re pretty sure you know what he’s asking.

 

“Can I, um,” He looks more bashful than he’s been this entire encounter, eyes flicking down meaningfully to the spot where his hips rest against yours. “Can I f-fuck you?”

 

Your eyebrows shoot up at his phrasing, and you smile at him. “No need to swear, dearest.” You’re taunting him and his blush suggests that he knows it. “But of course you can.”

 

He pulls back for a moment, biting hard at his bottom lip, as he stares down between you and takes himself in his hand. He rubs himself slowly against your opening and you can feel the goosebumps break out over his bare arms, even sitting this close to the fire. His eyes come back to meet yours as he guides himself into you. The slide of him is long, and he halts at every little twitch he sees cross your face. In response, you wrap your arms around his neck tightly, pulling him down on top of you, digging your legs into his back and wordlessly encouraging him to continue.

 

Once his hips sit flush with yours again, he’s panting against your mouth, his eyes are glazed over and his brows are furrowed in concentration. He pauses for a long moment and you can tell he’s trying with all his might not to finish immediately. God, you love to pull these kinds of reactions from him. You shift your hips a bit and bear down on him and he whimpers deliciously.

 

“I love you” He gasps, awed.

 

You smile up at him, it's not the first time you've heard it, but the way he says it, like your pussy is changing his life, turns you on to no end.

 

“I love you too.” You reply, huffing out a breathless laugh. “And you know what? I like it when you think you’re in charge.”

 

Your words send a shiver through his whole body and you can feel his hips shaking against yours. You wind a hand into his hair and firmly pull him down into a kiss, urging him to start moving into you.

 

If you were to knit pick, you wouldn’t quite describe this as ‘fucking’. His hips drive in slow circles and he gazes deeply into your eyes. He's making love to you. It's slow and gentle and warm and affectionate. You roll your hips around him and revel in the way he gasps against your lips. You hum contentedly back to him, shifting to meet each of his lazy thrusts in a way that makes every movement that much more delicious.

 

You can feel him drag slowly against your sweet spot with every moment, and you shiver in anticipation when he brings a hand down to rub at your clit. His thumb moves against you in slow circles, and the stimulation from both spots is building into a warm pressure that sits low in your gut.

 

You’re moaning constantly now, though you’re not sure when you started, and you pull back from your kiss and hold eye contact intensely. His face is flushed, though you’re sure it’s not just exertion, his lips are kissed red and hanging open in a series of tasty gasps and groans which only fuel the fire in your belly. You’re having trouble keeping your eyes open, but he paints such a pretty picture.

 

His hand on your clit rubs a little faster, stumbling in its movements every so often, and the movement of his hips is growing inconsistent and erratic. You gasp underneath him and close your eyes, focusing on the divine feelings which roll up through your torso and down to make your toes curl from where your legs are wrapped around him. Your hands tighten in his hair and you allow yourself to be selfish and chase your orgasm. You push your hips down against his in more firm motions and he quickly catches on, switching his pace to a hard, faster one. Now this, you think, is more like fucking.

 

You bite your bottom lip and grin, pleased with the way your man can make every nerve in your body light up in anticipation for release. You crack your eyes open again and see him hovering over you, his eyebrows drawn together in desperation, his eyes screwed shut tightly, a litany of very quiet swears and very loud groans falling from him.

 

The sight of him, completely ruined, is all it takes to push you over the edge. You feel your legs spasming around him, muscles clenching in your thighs and stomach as all of you rhythmically tightens and releases in your pleasure. You’re still riding the waves when you hear him call your name above you. His hips still against yours, buried in deep, and he weakly grinds himself against you as he shouts his release.

 

You’re tingling from the aftershocks when he lowers himself onto you, clearly trying to be gentle about it, though his arms give way and he sort of just collapses onto you. You huff out an affectionate laugh underneath him and begin tracing nonsensical patterns on his back.

 

“I still feel silly for being worried.” You hear him say, muffled into your shoulder. You laugh at him, softly, feeling his body shake with your movements.

 

“We can still put the blankets to good use,” You say, patting through his thick hair, enjoying the way it’s been warmed by the fire. “Let me show you how big my new bedroom is.”

 

He makes a quiet, noncommittal noise from on top of you, and you realise with a chuckle that he probably won’t be letting you up anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me suggestions in the comments if you want me to take a crack at writing something in particular I guess!!
> 
> Also I hope u liked this thanks i love you


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